Hopeless But For You
by MashPotatoeSquishBanana
Summary: One name. That's all he remembered. A beautiful face, blond hair, grey eyes... If he could determine the meaning of these memories, he might get a grasp on who he was. That is, until a certain meddling marriage goddess showed up and muddled his brain again...


**Title: Hopeless But For You  
Main Character: Percy Jackson  
Status: Pre MOA, during time when Percy was missing**

**I know that MOA has already come out, but I just really wanted to post this. Please enjoy.**

_Annabeth. Annabeth._

That one word kept reverberating through my head.

_Annabeth. Annabeth._

I slashed and hacked at monsters in time to the beat.

_Annabeth. Annabeth._

Or was it a name? I couldn't remember.

_Annabeth._

Slash.

_Annabeth._

Hack.

_Annabeth._

Dodge and roll.

_Wise Girl._

Slice- wait, what the Hades? Wise Girl? What about Annabeth?

I yelled and flung myself at the last monster. My head hurt. I was just so frustrated! I had just woken up to a mob of monsters about to have my hide, and if it weren't for the monsters, I don't think I would have even woken up.

Once the last of the monster grime was wiped off of my clothes, my sword cleaned and shrunk back into pen form, I stormed off, fuming.

Damn whoever did this to me. Damn Annabeth, whoever, _whatever, _it was, for driving me insane- in my haste to escape from that area, I tripped over a stick.

"Damn stick!" I swore. Damn EVERYTHING.

Something in my mind insisted that I had it wrong- that Annabeth was important. To me. An image appeared in my head. In fact, it seemed more like a memory.

I concentrated hard, and could make out through the blurriness a blond head of hair. A girl. She was laughing, holding a bit of blue cake. Hold on, who was she- the image fizzled into nothing. I couldn't remember. Had her hair been blond? Or was that black?

Was she Annabeth? Or was Annabeth a pet dog I had back home, wherever 'home' was? Did I even have a home?

The name sounded like something a little girl had made up for her Barbie doll or something. In my mind, the blond girl from before showed up, glaring at me with a bronze knife clenched in her fist. My gaze zeroed in on the blade.

_'The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap.' _A whisper filled my head. More like a hiss, actually. Like that of a snake… my head filled with green smoke… I saw a tie dye dress, a cracked leather pouch, a crumbled pit of old parchment… I shuddered. What was this?

I scrabbled to hold onto the memory with my mind's outstretched claws, but my brain felt soft and mushy, like it hadn't been used in a long time. I had no mental claws for gripping. Again, the memory failed me.

"Agh!" I yelled in frustration, chucking my magical pen/ sword Anaklusmos a couple of meters ahead, slouching down onto the ground, aching head cradled in hands. It was hopeless.

I glanced around, a sudden feeling of wrongness filling my mind. On the ground was a puddle of water. Reflected in the water was an image of a boy that looked so wild and frustrated that I winced. His black hair was untamed and wild, in desperate need of a haircut, his sea green eyes looking upset and angry and utterly lost-

Wait a minute. That boy was me.

The surface of the puddle rippled and I saw a lady- her hair was long and dark, braided over one shoulder, her proud face beautiful and majestically regal.

Then my subconscious recognised her. Unfortunately. "Hera," I growled. "What's happening to me?"

She laughed, a hint of disdain in her voice. "I cannot tell you that, Percy Jackson. Just remember the blond, and all is not hopeless." Then Hera was gone.

"What use was that?" I yelled, getting painfully to my feet. "Who is the blond girl?" No answer, of course. I collapsed, grasping my throbbing heads.

I had a feeling that the blond girl was more to me than what Hera was letting on.

_Annabeth. _The name flashed through my mind once.

A head of blond curls. Intimidating grey eyes. I vowed that I would find this girl, and-

Something surfaced in my memories.

Bubbles. Cool water on a cool evening, soft lips, soft hair- curly, blond hair-

I gasped. Annabeth. Annabeth Chase.

I remembered now. That night- the 18th of August. My first kiss. Her first as well, probably. Underwater.

The blue cake-

"Annabeth Chase." I whispered, the feeling of her name on my lips so beautifully familiar. It warmed my cold, fearful heart.

I now had a grasp on who I was. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

_Annabeth Chase._

I began my journey with her name and the delicious feeling of her lips on mine fresh in my mind.

**Did you like? Oh, btw, I probably would have used a stronger cuss word than 'damn' but I don't want this to be rated higher than K+, so I had to used 'damn'.**

**Please take a look at my other stories, and don't forget to review! Thanks for reading,**

**MashPotatoeSquishBanana**


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